


a working relationship

by Tedronai



Series: The End of an Age [10]
Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:18:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8979394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tedronai/pseuds/Tedronai
Summary: Asmodean and Lanfear have a decent working relationship. In that they work together, and it mostly works, and yeah, it's a relationship.





	

**Author's Note:**

> UAF Secret Santa gift for [diynendmapurvene](http://diynendmapurvene.tumblr.com) on Tumblr. Happy commercial winter holiday of choice~!

Somehow even in the middle of a war zone, Lanfear managed to look immaculate. Asmodean was more than a little envious of this; he was wearing the same clothes going on fourth day in a row and the white lace at the cuffs was — well, not so white after his latest encounter with explosive materials. Soot stains were hell to get rid of, and he’d not had the chance to focus on channelling them away.

Lanfear seemed to glide over the rubble that had once been a courtyard. Her dark eyes fixed on Asmodean with a dissatisfied look. “You’re late,” she said.

Asmodean grimaced. “There was an ambush. I barely got away, and only because I’d had the chance to learn the location well enough to Travel.” He huffed in frustration. “The transport, several intel ter’angreal and half a dozen bloody _zomara_ were lost.”

The answering silence seemed like a bad sign, but in the end no explosion happened. “I don’t envy you,” she said eventually, starting off back the way she’d come.

Asmodean hurried to follow. “How come?” he asked as he fell in step with her. Sure, he didn’t feel particularly enviable, but he had a sinking feeling that the other Chosen wasn’t talking about his dishevelled and sleep-deprived state.

“Oh, did I not mention?” Lanfear said, blatantly and infuriatingly disingenuous. “Ishamael arrived an hour ago. You’ll be making your report directly to him.” She made as if to pat Asmodean’s shoulder, took another look at his dusty coat, and withdrew her white-gloved hand again with a disdainful frown. “Like I said, I don’t envy you.”

Sometimes, Asmodean truly hated her.

~*~

Ishamael was his charming, terrifying self. Asmodean tried to blend into the bunker’s grey concrete wall — snowball’s chance in Shayol Ghul but worth a try — as the leader of the Great Lord’s Chosen ranted and raved, a mad light in his eyes and every word weighed with the ring of prophecy. The common rabble of the Friends of the Dark cowered before him, and even Lanfear appeared subdued.

Rationally, Asmodean knew that True Power didn’t have a smell yet somehow the room reeked of it.

Finally Ishamael was done with the tirade. New orders were issued in a terse, contemptuous voice, and then he was gone in a swirl of that ridiculous cape and such a surge of True Power that it made Asmodean wince. Next to him, Lanfear was literally rolling her eyes at the dramatics.

“Some things never change, huh?” he offered weakly, earning a frosty glare for his efforts. The same applied to Lanfear, he supposed. He’d endured worse than withering looks; he’d live.

He didn’t have the luxury of letting her stride off in a huff, however; they had work to do he he was supposed to be working with her, and so he followed. He was fairly confident that she would talk to him again in not too long. She usually did. After all, he was the only one who consistently tolerated her.


End file.
